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2014-10-10

Brassó/Brasov

 This is about 25 miles outside of Brassó, on the train route from Bucharest.  Bucharest is in lowlands, much like the Texas Gulf coast.  The Carpathians reminded me of the Tetons-perhaps not as high, but very rugged.

 View from my hotel window. Away from downtown, industrial area, thus cheaper.  Mountains are part of ski area you can reach by local bus.
 Another couple of fotos from the train


I cant understand why  central european budget hotels are so user- unfriendly.  No city maps (avail at no cost from local tourist office) and no info about public transportation (ditto).

Back in Europe again. Bucharest

 Bucharest.  Historic section of town is just a pastiche of trendy pubs and foreign food restaurants.  Went exploring, ran into a arts/antiques bazzar and wound uo buying this silver bracelet for 150 lei, about $40.
 Hotel room.  Got to hotel by combination of bus from airport (sro) which got caught in rush hour traffic, plus streetcar, helped out by a young man who explained the tickets and directions.  Later it dawned on me that he was really cute...but at the time i was exhausted from about 21 hours of continuous travel

2014-04-18

Good Friday .. just another day in Udvarhely

I went to church once when I first got here.  Really couldn't take it, too much pious rosary chanting and bad music.

I genuinely miss my sunday liturgies, however, and I am constantly reading postings about what is going on in the religious world, whether it is the pending canonizations in Rome or the latest litigation between the breakaway conservatives and the more liberal wing of whatever denomination one wishes to mention.

Recently a post appeared that prompted me to write a response. The author was making a claim that it was really, really important to believe that JC really really physically and all that re-emerged into the really real world.    The blog included a poem by John Updike, which is by the way a marvellous piece of literature, but not one for me to hang my faith hat upon.  I have updike's poem at the bottom, just for reference.  Anyway, here is the comment I posted to the blog


I long ago came to the conclusion that God does not do magic. Any god who does magic is just another capricious s.o.b. Furthermore, any supposed "miracle" for person X ( whose pocket bible stopped a sniper"s bullet) or person Y (who after getting hit by lightning got up and started to cook supper) is more than offset by any number of deadly events, be they avalanches, sinkings of ships, or pogroms. 

So if God doesn't do magic, then Updike's version (as well as that of the gospels outside of Mark) can only be understood as poetic vision. Which is fine. I like poetry, and I like especially Updike as an author. But, I am inclined to lean more towards the notion that Jesus was treated just like any other "criminal" of his day, which would have involved no special favors for the family., no special treatment of the body after he died. Quite possibly just dumped or thrown to the dogs.. Probably no "body" left to resuscitate. 

So what about the creeds? For me, they are hymns. We all know not to take hymns literally--they are poetry, they are songs, they are art. We can SING all sorts of stuff that we know we would never SAY. If I can chant the creeds, then I am fine. If I have to SAY them, it"s a different matter.


John Updike

SEVEN STANZAS AT EASTER

Make no mistake: if He rose at all
it was as His body;
if the cells’ dissolution did not reverse, the molecules
reknit, the amino acids rekindle,
the Church will fall.

It was not as the flowers,
each soft Spring recurrent;
it was not as His Spirit in the mouths and fuddled
eyes of the eleven apostles;
it was as His flesh: ours.

The same hinged thumbs and toes,
the same valved heart
that–pierced–died, withered, paused, and then
regathered out of enduring Might
new strength to enclose.

Let us not mock God with metaphor,
analogy, sidestepping transcendence;
making of the event a parable, a sign painted in the
faded credulity of earlier ages:
let us walk through the door.

The stone is rolled back, not papier-mâché,
not a stone in a story,
but the vast rock of materiality that in the slow
grinding of time will eclipse for each of us
the wide light of day.

And if we will have an angel at the tomb,
make it a real angel,
weighty with Max Planck’s quanta, vivid with hair,
opaque in the dawn light, robed in real linen
spun on a definite loom.

Let us not seek to make it less monstrous,
for our own convenience, our own sense of beauty,
lest, awakened in one unthinkable hour, we are
embarrassed by the miracle,
and crushed by remonstrance.

2014-04-11

Horda -- Central European Dance Company (Budapest)

Performance last night at the local cultural center auditorium, place about 60% full, I would say.  Eight dancers, 4 men 4 women.  Some of the men were TALL, like about 6' 4" for the tallest, easily 6' for another, not something you expect with dancers.

Abstract , mostly, i dont know dance vocabulary so it is next to impossible for me to describe.  Not classical, but not just athletics.  The momentum of the piece was toward communality (is that a word?)--a physical loaf of bread being first grudgingly shared, then fought over, then finally  genuinely shared      mixed in was a basin of water which was at first a source of mystery and magic, then a foot bath, a baptismal font, a focus of marital strife, then something akin to marital bliss.     A couple of times one of the male dancers sat on the edge of the stage and delivered a kind of political pep talk to the audience, no discernible language, but full of passion and conviction.  There was an extensive pas de deux, a couple of pilobolus-type groupings, but mostly it was ensemble work, and I caught myself marveling at how fluidly the team executed extremely complicated maneuvers, especially when three of the men would be dancing with one of the women, with her being lifted by one, caught and twisted by another, dropped onto a third, twirled back to number one, and so on, all without repetition of moves.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DOeMiCfQ6O8     pieces of HORDA which I saw last night

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qKNe8Lge9uI        Nutcracker, rehearsal








2014-04-09

Hiking up to the CornerStone


Szarkakő   Cornerstone   click on the pictures to see them in full size!!!


888 meters above sealevel
a climb of about 1500 feet from Udvarhely, where I started out on my bike
I was able to use the bike for about half of the hike.  some of it was pretty steep, so I just pushed
and the steep parts coming downhill were rocky and muddy, so I also walked

It didnt help that my brakes were iffy and that once I got up speed it was really hard to stop
and one thing i didnt need was to be concussed out in the boonies with a difficult maneuver for any rescue vehicle coming my way.

Weather was nice, about 60 degrees, mostly sunny
Coolish breeze at atime, but I was never cold

A couple of times I flashed back to the time I went hiking above squaw valley near Lake Tahoe.  Not quite as high, obviously, and the air was't nearly as thin, but at times the ascent was just as steep.

I would say to myself, ok you can rest after you hit that rock that is about 50 yards ahead.   I reached what I thought was the summit, but it wasnt, then I reached the next , but it wasnt either. I almost decided to turn back, but I kept pushing.  




Not yet at the summit, but this was a nice view over a meadow towards woods and, in the distance, Udvarhely.





This was the spot where I snapped this and the previous picture, it shows my ultimate destination, the hilltop at the top right of the photo.







The hilltop has a sharp dropoff, probably about 200
foot, and then the ground tapers to the river valley.


Apparently it is the remains of an ancient volcano core, here you see the exposed rock as a bluff.  I imagine it is this which gives the name to the hill-- Szarkakő--Cornerstone



I took this on the way back downhill, just to document where I had been.


The official proof, along with the bike i picked up at the flea market when I arrived in town.  Still dont know what to do with it.  I am thinking of donating it to the school where I helped out..Let them hold a drawing of some kind?  RFestrict it only to kids who don't already have a bike?   Not sure, will talk to Péter Julia about it.

2014-04-05

15 seconds of fame Udvarhely Hirado, 4 April 2014


A csalánlevest kanalazva megjegyezte: Amerikában
ez a növény gyom. Csillog a szeme, amint
kimondja: „Csihányba nem üt a mennyko”.
Robert Edward Lewis az Amerikai Egyesült Államok
Missouri államában, St. Louisban él. Anyanyelve
angol. Egyetemi tanár, aztán bankszakember
volt. Írt pár német nyelvu könyvet. Nyugdíjasként
visszatért nyelvtanári álmaihoz. Néhány
angolra fordított Weöres Sándor-vers arra
sarkallta: nem csak olvasni, érteni is szeretné a
költeményeket. Pár hetet Székelyudvarhelyen
tölt: tanul és tanít.
Húsvét elott Brassó felé indul. Pár napot ott marad, szeretné
megismerni a környéket. Majd Kolozsvár, Nagyvárad következik.
Debrecen, Budapest után június végén megy vissza Amerikába.
||| Robert a mosolyával, szeme csillogásával is megérteti: szeret magyarul beszélni
„Nekem a magyar nyelv üveghegy”





Spooning up the nettle soup, he remarks.. In the US
these are just weeds. His eyes sparkle as he recalls
a Hungarian proverb... Lightning doesnt strike on nettles.
REL, from the US state of
Missouri, lives in St. Louis. English is his mother tongue.
He used to teach at a university, then he became
a banker. I wrote a couple of books in German. On
retirement he turned back to his dream of teaching languages.
A couple of poems by Weöres Sandor that had been translated
into English caught him.. He wanted not just to be able to read
them but also to understand these works of art. He is staying
In Székelyudvarhey for a few weeks, studying and teaching.
Around Easter he thinks he will go to Brasov. He will stay
there to visit the countryside, then he will go to Cluj,
Oradea, Debrecen and Budapest, returning to the US in June
He smiles, his eyes sparkle and he says...


For me, Hungarian is a glass mountain


-------------------------------------------------------------------
Hungarian text first, English follows

Három alkalommal ültünk
le beszélgetni.
Ha lassabban is haladtunk
az életút- és ta paszta
latmegosztásban, megérte.
Magyarul hallhattuk, milyennek
lát minket, székelyeket
egy tengerentúli, miben
kap vagy várhatna segítséget
a külföldi. Azt találtuk
a legérdekesebbnek, hogy
hetvenévesen milyen érdeklodéssel
és jó hangulattal tanul.
„Nekem a magyar nyelv
olyan, mint egy sima üveghegy.
Nincs ko, amit megfoghatok”
– nyugtázza.
„HOGY TETSZIK LENNI?”
A fenti kérdést sokáig nem
értette. „Hogy mi? Ki? ... Most
értem!” – kacagott. Az is örömmel
tölti el, hogy ha bemegy a
belvárosi cukrászdába, ismerik
és tudják: kávét kér meleg
tejjel, hozzá meggyes tortát.
Amerikában nincs meggy,
csak cseresznye. A savanykás
gyümölcs „süteménybe a legjobb”
– vallja Robert.
TANÁR VOLT – TANÁR LETT
Nyugdíjas. Nem gazdag, de
ahhoz van elég pénze, hogy
tanuljon. Pályakezdoként német
nyelvet tanított az egyetemen.
„Ez volt a legjobb munka
az életemben.” Reagan elnök
idején az irodalom- és
zeneoktatás háttérbe szorult
a gazdasági ismeretek mellett
– nem kellett idegen nyelvet
tanulni az egyetemeken.
Mit tehetett? Visszament tanulni:
könyvelést és pénzügyi
ismereteket tanult, majd egy
bankban helyezkedett el. A
papíralapú könyvelést a számítógépes
váltotta – elterjedésével
új, érdekes feladatot
kapott. De a „nagyobb bank
megvette a kisebbet: több
munkás, kevesebb munka” –
összegezte Robert. Az egyezség
szerint egy évig dupla fizetést
kapott, aztán megszunt
a munkaviszonya. Megtakarításait
ingatlanokba fektette,
és idoközben nyugdíjas lett.
Kérdezte magától: mit szeretnék
csinálni? Válasza: visszamenne
tanítani. Bár egyetemi
tanárként írt pár szakkönyvet,
a gimnáziumi tanításhoz
nem volt pedagógusi diplomája…
Olyan országot keresett,
ahol amerikai tanárokat fogadnak.
Sokat utazott Európában.
Tatán kapott vendégtanári
állást. Másfél évet dolgozott
Magyarországon. Az
elso szó, amit megtanult: köszönöm.
Pár diákkal jól tudott
beszélni angolul, néhányan
pedig németül is tudtak. A helyi
kamarakórus vezetoje német
szakos tanárno. Megismerkedtek,
és meghívta énekelni.
A szöveget nem értette,
de a kotta sokat segített, a társalgáshoz
pedig kézikönyvbol
olvasta ki a szavakat. A
kórustársasággal sokat utaztak,
kisvárosokban, templomokban
énekeltek. Csöngén
meglátogatták a Weöres Sándor
Emlékházat. Nem tudta,
„ki ez az ember, de a többieknek
fontos volt”. Interneten
talált pár verset angolul:
„Nagyon érdekes volt – emlékezett
vissza az élményre
Robert. – Ezt a nyelvet meg
kell tanulnom, hogy tudjam
olvasni és érteni is a Weöresverseket.”
„NEM TURISTA VAGYOK”
Tanár nélkül, önállóan tanult
magyarul. Járt-kelt Magyarországon,
foleg vonattal
és kerékpárral. A vendégtanári
státus véget ért. Feleségével,
fiával, lányával és annak
barátjával még utazgatott
az országban, majd visszatértek
Amerikába.
Néhány egykori diákjával
Skype-on beszélt magyarul.
Könyveket Internetrol olvasott.
Egyik volt diákja utolsó
éves a gimnáziumban, megígérte,
visszatér a ballagására.
Idoközben azt is megtudta:
„Romániában élnek olyanok,
akiknek az anyanyel vük
magyar”. Elhatározta: választ
egy várost, ott marad egy ideig,
kisebb kirándulásokat
tesz. Köztük élve az embereket
is megismerheti. Tourifoirodáknak
írt, háromtól kapott
választ. A legjobb ajánlatnak
az udvarhelyi irodáét találta:
választása a Gizi csárdára
esett.
Úgy tíz nap után gyalog sétált
a Bethlen utcában. Valaki
angolul szólt: kioldódott a
cipofuzoje. Érdekelte, ki az,
aki angolul beszél. Így ismerte
meg Péter Júlia angol szakos
tanárt, aki meghívta, néha
beszéljen diákjaival angolul,
és foglalkozzon azokkal, akik
nyelvvizsgára készülnek.
KIBOVÜLT A MOZGÁSTERE
Reggel hatkor ébred. Kávézás
után tanul: mostanában
az ezer magyar közmondást
értelmezi. A tableten mutatja:
ma a Lehazudná az égrol
a csillagokat szólás volt a feladata
– értelmezni és megjegyezni.
Az elvont szavakat nehezebben
érti: legutóbb az erkölcs
kifejezés tette próbára.
Errol barátainak is beszámolt
angol nyelvu blogján. Heti
rendszerességgel ír kirándulásairól:
autóbusszal és vonattal
közlekedik, a városban
pedig a bolhapiacon vásárolt
használt biciklivel. Errol megjegyezte:
„Nem királyi, egy kicsit
kellett vele dolgozni”. Járt
Korondon, Szovátán, egy hideg
napon vonattal még Segesváron
is. A Muvelodési Ház rendezvényeinek
visszajáró látogatója.
Részt vett a téltemetésen
és Csíkszentmiklóson
disznóvágáson.
NAGYON JÓL ÉRZI MAGÁT
Szép a táj. A város csendes.
Nem fél, biztonságos. „Az úton
van lyuk, biciklizni kicsit veszélyes”.
Ezért nem kerékpározik
sötétben. Ami hiányzik:
„Nincs magyar nyelvu és magyar
feliratú film, csak a Kis
Vuk. Nehéz magyarul tanulni
film nélkül – ismételni, visszajátszani
újra meg újra. Makk
Károly sok filmet rendezett. Jó
filmek, fontos filmek, de csak a
magyar tudja érteni. Miért nem
feliratozzák ezeket? Magyarország,
Erdély sziget? Nem
kell a külföldi megismerje? –
nyomatékosítja. – Segíteni kell
a külföldi embereknek.”
Hogy milyeneknek látja a
székelyeket? „Udvariasak.”
Történeteket mesél nyomatékul.
Látják, hogy nem magyar.
Angolul válaszolnak a magyarul
feltett kérdésekre. De amikor
újra magyarul szól, megértik:
tanulja a nyelvet. Onnantól
segítokészek. Nagy élményként,
meghatódva említette:
beszélgetésünk napján
az óra végén megtapsolták diákjai.
Ilyen Magyarországon
soha nem fordult elo vele! Az
itteni tanulók jobban értenek
angolul, mint a magyarországiak.
Robert úgy gondolja, a
román nyelv után könnyebben
tanulunk idegen nyelvet.
„UDVARHELY A LEGJOBB VÁROS
NEKEM”
Magyar, nem túl nagy, de van
könyvtár, színház, cukrászda.
Csak a mozi hiányzik – magyar
feliratú magyar filmekkel.
Család nélkül él itt sok diák
– merengett el. – Amerikában
csak a nagyon gazdag
emberek gyermekei engedhetik
meg maguknak ezt. Udvarhelyre
nagyon nehéz vonattal
jönni. Segesvár ötven kilométer,
másfél órai utazás. Ezért
kell a diáknak itt laknia…”
Nem ismeri még a várost, de a
leg rosszabb, amit eddig látott,
a Budvár-negyed. Az egyik
bevásárlóközpontban rácsodálkozott:
minden könyv román
nyelvu. Kinek adják el,
ha a város 98 százaléka magyar?
Sot, minden ott található
„DVD is románul beszél…”
A friss zöldségek, gyümölcsök
fölött az ártáblán is csak román
nyelven szerepelnek a
terméknevek.
A sok hagyományos étel „nehéz”.
Evett papsalátalevest,
pisztrángot, borjúpörköltet –
nagyon finomak. A reggelibol
negyed adag is elég – a sajt,
szalonna, kolbász mellett legyen
sok zöldség. Rácsodálkozott:
a Szent András-kereszttel
jelzett vasúti átkeloknél
minden jármuvezeto megáll.
Hazájában, ha tudják, „naponta
háromszor jár a vonat, senki
nem állna meg”.
SZÉKELY PÓLÓ?
Ha rá bíznák Korondot, próbálna
több hagyományos darabot
eladni. Rákérdeztünk:
mire gondol? Vannak nagyon
szép, de csak ünnepeken
használható férfiingek. A pólók
ázsiaiak. Nem talált egyet
sem székely jelképpel. Pedig
szeretné, hogy „munkaruhán”
is viselhessék az itteni emberek,
de az idegenbol érkezok
is, az életfát, napot, holdat…
„MÁS SZEMÉVEL…”
A fotózáshoz nem akart
nyakkendot tenni. „Temetésre
talán még igen” – jött a derus
válasz. Említettem: csütörtökön
megjelenik beszélgetéseink
írott anyaga. „Érdekes
lesz! – mondta kisfiús mosollyal.
– Szeretek olvasni…
Most majd más szemével nézhetem
magam.”

--------------------------------------------------------
We sat down three times
to chat
a bit slowly we listened to
his life story, what he had done
and his impressions.
In Hungarian he told us how he
sees us, us Sekler people
from far way across the ocean
and how this stranger gets along.
We found it
most interesting that
at the age of 70 he studies with
such interest and devotion.
Hungarian is like a smooth
mountain made of glass.
There is nothing to hold on to
he emphasized.
“How does my lord today,”
For a long time he did not understand what
people were asking. What? Who? Today I
understand the expression, he laughs.
He is pleased that when he goes to the local
coffee shop, people know what he wants...
he always orders coffee with hot milk
and sour cherry crumb cake.
We don't get sour cherries in the US
just sweet cherries. The somewhat tart
fruit is really the best
Robert adds.
“He used to teach, now he teaches again”
Retired. Not really rich, but
he has enough money to
study. In his career he
taught German at a university
“It was the best job of my life” But
under Reagan foreign languages
and the fine arts took a back
seat to
business classes
students no longer had to learn
foreign languages at the university.
What could he do. He went back to study
accounting and finance
and then
got a job at a bank.
Paper-based work
changed to computer-based—and
he got new, interesting assignments.
But a big bank ate up
the little one
too many employees
for the work that was required.
So for a year he got extra salary
and then was out
of a job. He got involved in some
real estate
and then retired.
But he asked himself , what do I want
to do. His answer—go back
to teaching. While he had done
some publishing as an academic
he did not have a teaching
certificate to work in a high school.
So he looked for a country
which had a need for American teachers
He was familiar with in Europe. So he
got a position in Tata as a visiting teacher
For a year and a half he worked
in Hungary. The first Hungarian word
he learned--”thank you”
There were a few students who spoke
good English, a few knew German.
He met the local chorus director, who
was a retired German
teacher. She
invited him to sing.
He did not understand the words
But he could read the notes, and the
chorus members and dictionaries helped
him to pronounce the words
The chorus took several trips
to sing in venues in other towns, churches
and so on. In Csönge they visited the
home of Weröes Sandor,
now a museum. He did not know
--"who is this person who
is so important to these people?” On the
internet he found a couple of translations
“They were very interesting” Robert
remembers being introduced to them.
I think I need to learn this language
so that I can be able
to read the poems of Weöres.
“I am not a tourist”
Without a teacher he started
to learn Hungarian on his own. He
traveled round Hungary by train
and bicycle. Then his job as visiting
teacher came to a close. With his family--
spouse, son, daughter and her companion
he traveled around and then
he returned
to the US.
With a few former students
he talked in Hungarian using Skype
He read some Hungarian texts on the internet.
Some of his students are now
graduating and he promised
to attend their ceremony.
In the meantime he realized--
There are people in Romania
who speak Hungarian
as their native tongue. He decided
to travel and stay there
and do little day trips
He wanted to get close to people
get to know them. He wrote to several
tourist offices and got three answers.
the best came from Udvarhely
where he selected
the Gizi Inn

About 10 days after arriving he was walking
on Bethlen Street. Somebody spoke to him
In English—your shoe is untied.
He wondered, who is it
who is speaking English. And so
he met Péter Julia, a local
English teacher who invited him
to meet with some of her
students and work with them
to prepare for language exams.
Expanding his horizons
He gets up around 6 am. After breakfast
he studies. Nowadays he can understand
about 1000 Hungarian expressions.
He showed me his tablet computer
with the phrase--”he would swear there
were no stars in the sky” on the screen
he understands and can explain the phrase
Abstract words are harder
to learn. Recently the word erkölcs (virtue)
was something he tried to say—with difficulty
He said he wrote about his problem with it
in his blog he keeps for his friends, along with the
stuff he does each week and his trips
by bus and by train to
places nearby
or on the second hand bike he got
at the flea market. About the bike--
“ Not the best, I had to do a little work on it.”
He has gone to Korund, Szováta, and to
Segesvar too on a recent cold day.
He is a repeat visitor to
the events at the local art center.
He witnessed the Burial of Winter celebration
and also went to
Csikszentmiklós
for their pig butchering festival.
He likes it here
The countryside is pretty, the town is quiet.
He feels safe. The roads have
potholes, so biking is a bit dicey
And for that reason he does not go biking
after sundown. What does he need?
“There just aren't any Hungarian films that also
have Hungarian subtitles. Just Kis Vuk (popular
animated film). It is hard to learn a language
without films—being able to repeat, go back,
listen again over and over. Makk
Károly (noted film director) made lots of films.
Good ones, important ones, but only
Hungarians can understand them. Why are there
no subtitles? Both Hungary and Transylvania are
(cultural) islands. Foreigners have no reason to
get to know your culture?”--he asks
emphatically. “ You need to help
people from other countries.”
-- What does he think about the Szekély people?
Courteous, he replies. He tells this story with strong
emphasis. People see that I am not Hungarian.
When I speak in Hungarian
they reply in English.
But when I again
speak in Hungarian, they understand--
he is studying the language. From then on
they help him. He recently
had an unusual experience
He spoke with a class
and at the end they applauded him
That never happened
to him in Hungary.
He thinks the local students do better
in English than those living in Hungary
perhaps because
they live next door to Romanian speakers
and this exposure makes it easier for them.
Udvarhely is just right for me

It is Hungarian, not too large.
It has a library, a theater, coffee shops
Just no cinema-- well there is one, but
the films are all dubbed.
He notices that many high school students live here
independently. In the US only very rich
people would
be able to afford
to do that. But it is hard to get to
Udvarhely by train.
Segesvar is only 30 miles away,
but the trip takes nearly 2 hours.
So the students have to live in town.
He does not yet know all of the town, but
it seems to him that the Budvar area
is the most run down. He noticed at one of
the local stores that
every book on the shelves was in Romanian.
Who is going to buy those books? Udvarhely
Is 98% Hungarian!
Every single
DVD was also Romanian.
Vegetables and fruits
also had names and descriptions
only in Romanian.

He finds the local traditional diet to be heavy.
He tried the “priest lettuce” soup,
the trout, and the veal stew.
They were delicious. For breakfast
he wants a quarter of the usual serving--
instead of sausage and cheese
he prefers vegetables. He remarks that
at the local rail crossing

every vehicle comes to a full stop.
Back in the US, if people know there
are only 3 trains daily
nobody stops.
Székely polo shirts?
He visited Korund to see
if he could pick up some traditional
items. We asked him what he
thought about things. Well, they
are pretty, but just for dress up--
eg, the men's shirts. All the T shirts
are made in Asia. Not one produced
locally. For example
it would be nice if people
could wear the stuff to work
--stuff embroidered with traditional symbols
like the “tree of life” and the moon and stars
As others see us....
He wasn't interested in
wearing a tie for the photographer.
Maybe for my funeral, he said
dryly. I told him that
the material from our conversations
would appear on Thursday. It will be
interesting, he said with a boyish grin.
I am looking forward to reading it. Now
I will be able to see myself through another
person”s eyes.


































The article

  So on Thursday last, April 3, the thing appeared in the local paper. A full page, five columns, all about me and what I have done, am doing, and why I am here. The writer, Molnár Melinda, is apparently free-lance for the paper, seeking out things or people that have some kind of appeal to the local readers. The thrust of the article was that here is this guy who has a background in languages, he somehow gets involved with Hungary, is introduced to some Hungarian literature and decides to start learning the language. So he winds up here in Udvarhely, and then the rest of the article is how do I as an outsider view the local scene. The article pretty faithfully reports what I said—the town is pleasant and peaceful and offers what I was looking for. I don't drive, I use local bus or I ride a bike I picked up at the fleamarket. I don't ride at night because the streets have too many holes and I cant see them. I can't understand why the local equivalent of walmart has a book section which contains only Romanian books, when 98 % of the local population is Hungarian. I question the local artisans' decision to produce only traditional clothing. If you want a shirt with traditional embroidery or decoration, then it is only a dress shirt. There is no such thing as a nice polo shirt with traditional decoration. Anything in that line is simply some cheap printed thing with I “heart” Transylvania, or something of that ilk. I complain that there are no Hungarian films with Hungarian subtitles. None. Well, one, an animated film from the early 90s. But that is it. Lots of good Hungarian films, some with foreign subtitles, but none with Hungarian. Either Hungarians don't want foreigners to learn their language, or they are just unaware of the hurdles that are inadvertently imposed.

During our interviews (all in Hungarian, sometimes it took a while to understand what she was asking me) I could tell Melinda wanted me to feed her some good lines about how great the locals were. I stretched things a little bit, not too much, in saying how nice the countryside was, that I felt safe, that I found people to be a bit more personal than, say, folks in Budapest, that I enjoyed going to the local theater and musical performances, and so on.

She did omit my big story about having to spend about two hours walking up and down the street to find the local tourist information office and being totally put out because the office staff had not bothered to put up a sign anywhere to let people know where they were located. But I wrote about that in an earlier blog. Perhaps that was too too hot a topic to include in the article, because it would make particular individuals look incompetent or foolish. And I can understand that, but my point is still valild. (I can report that the office now is very clearly marked, and that you would have no trouble at all finding it).